June
Huckles has developed a problem: he visits the neighbors.
Tractor Pull
I interview everyone with a tractor and they say the same thing: I love my tractor.
Mozart on Norway Pond
Mozart was with us that day, regretting every other invitation from the concert halls of Europe and around the world.
Now We are Nearly to Spring
Every year, awakened by the Mourning Dove, I would be glad to stand in that spot for a minute or two.
Winter
If you want the real deal when it comes to New England, you must come in winter.
Where Have You Gone, David Crosby?
The loss of David Crosby has me worried about this . . . What compares today? What do we hold in common? Things appear and disappear so fast in this information age . . . turned to mulch with every page refresh. In a content world built around sharing, there is very little to hold on to.
They're Baaack
The black flies came early this year. The adage has been Mother’s Day through Father’s Day, but I think they were here right after Easter. We live in the woods by the water, prime conditions for the little bloodsuckers.
Pilgrimage
Streams of people ahead of us down the footpaths, all of us coming behind those who excavated the caves of worship centuries before
Spring Feverish
God help us; it is March, and we are beginning to think about spring.